


Seven Unseelie Days

by ArrenEmris



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Celtic God Klaus, Deal with an Unseelie King, F/M, Vampire Caroline Forbes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 16:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16432679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArrenEmris/pseuds/ArrenEmris
Summary: There are old legends about mighty Raven King of Unseelie Court, the warlord of the Wild Hunt. So, when the supernatural community is after Caroline's head she has no choice, but summon ancient demigod.





	Seven Unseelie Days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kiryki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiryki/gifts).



The blooming of heather reminds her of crimson blood, Caroline thinks, letting its scent intoxicate her and dispose of her gloomy thoughts. Infinite heathlands that stretch all around, just like an enchanted poppy field from those fairy tales that Caroline had read as a child. The aroma of spicy herbs makes her feel dizzy and more than anything else she wants to fall lightly on the field, letting the heather flowers tangle in her hair and watch how the fireball of the sun is dropping.

Only here, among the heather and the mountains of this wild country where the small folk has ruled for centuries, not only can one not behave carelessly, but one can’t  even trust their own shadow, so she embraces herself, patiently waiting for twilight. The blood has already been shed, the words have been spoken, and she just has to wait until the King of Crowds responds to her request.   
  
She should have come here in the fall, when the heather would have been withered, after Mabon, when the Unseelie Court would begin to gain strength and her call would be absolutely heard, but Bonnie had warned her that in the fall it would be too dangerous to call the king.

_“If you call him in the fall then expect trouble,”_ the Bennett witch’s words remained in memory, a ghostly whisper. _“He will come along with his retinue and take ones with him, he will come along with the Wild Hunt, and will rather cut off one’s head than listen to a request.”_   
  
Maybe she shouldn't be so arrogant, Caroline thinks, kicking a pebble on the road. Maybe the victim needed to be sweeter and more than an unfortunate boy that got in her way, maybe ... There are so many of these “maybes” in her head that Caroline sighs, watching how the sunset becomes scarlet. The sun will disappear very soon and, if she believes everything she had read, the king must appear before sunset.

“Stupid legends,” Caroline grumbles and disappointedly crumples the piece of paper with Bonnie’s scrupulously drawn out spell. It was probably not worth believing in foolish fairy tales, but how not to believe when she is a vampire herself? Maybe that’s why he didn’t respond, she muses, distractedly watching the sun start to go beyond the horizon.

From a distance, the sound of an engine is heard and Caroline gloomily watches a truck appearing in the road dust. Perhaps some of the local farmers, she thinks, more concerned about what would happen if they see blood on the dusty road, so she makes herself smile affably when a stranger gets out of the cab, looking at her intently.  
  
“Is everything alright, _sassenach_?” He has a low voice and a thick accent. Everyone here speaks as if they stepped into the twenty-first century right from the sixteenth, and Caroline shrugs a little.  
  


“I admire the sunset, it’s just very beautiful here.” She tries to be gracious and not to show that she is upset.

  
He has dark blue eyes and copper hair, in the rays of the setting sun, it seems almost red. If they met somewhere at a bar in Edinburgh, Caroline would be seduced by his charming dimples and hoarse accent, and after a couple of kisses, she would allow herself to dig her sharp fangs into his throat. But she didn’t come here, into the wild lands for a random romance, so she only smiles detachedly, barely restraining irritation when he wonders if she needs his help.

A pair of sharp words are turning on her tongue, but a gust of wind cuts them off, disturbs the heather, pulls at the collar of his henley, and Caroline notices the black birds on his collarbone. What an idiot I am, she almost says, feeling how the rhythm of her dead heart accelerates and how her hands tremble. The old gods love to play with mortals - or with those who they think are mortals - she had almost forgotten about it.   
  
She takes a shaky breath, making him grin, and clasps her fingers together, trying to calm the excitement.

“I do,” Caroline says softly but firmly, looking him straight in the eyes. “I need help, _Klaus_.”   
  
The smile of the one whom the witches call the Raven King, and the little folk call Klaus, is too bestial, but Caroline does not have a choice, so she boldly extends her palm to him. Strong fingers grab her wrist, and then he pulls her closer to him, touching the delicate skin with his fervent lips.   
  


“Vampire?” he is intrigued and doesn’t release her hand. “There hasn’t been anyone like that for a very long time, sassenach”.   
  
“Caroline,” she corrects him impatiently. “My name is Caroline, and I came to beseech the Raven King,” she almost rambles under the laughing gaze of Klaus.

“And what kind of help do you need, sassenach?” Amber sparks dance in his intense glance and she almost rolls her eyes. Only Bonnie’s whisper, that still sounds in her thoughts, reminds her that she is facing something almost more ancient than magic itself, and she shouldn’t be too cheeky.   
  
Caroline licks her lips under his heavy gaze and then exhales hastily as if fearing that words are stuck in her throat:

“I need immortality.”

  
“A vampire who needs immortality? Very peculiar.” He smirks while Caroline rumbles.

  
“I am a vampire, of course, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t be killed and since I accidentally - honestly! - killed the wrong guy, now the whole supernatural world is hunting me, and …”   
  
Klaus smile is carnivorous, again bringing her wrist to his lips. Sharp teeth scratch the delicate skin, but Caroline doesn't even flinch as she watches him taste a ruby drop of blood.

“You need strength and protection,” he finishes for her. “You have sweet blood, sassenach,” he whispers. “I will give you what you want, but you will have to give me something in return.”   
  
“I know,” she nods and frowns a little, making a wrinkle between her eyebrows. “I read about it,” she mutters to herself. “I can offer you a sacrifice if you want,” she suggests, and she looks at him almost imploringly, but the Raven King shakes his head, genuinely enjoying her indignation.

“Come to my court, sassenach. Spend seven days in the Unseelie court, and then I will give you what you want.”   
  
Caroline only thinks for a few seconds - she still has no choice, he can demand anything from her - and she nods stubbornly, causing him to chuckle contentedly.

“I'll come after you on Samhain, on the night of the Wild Hunt, Caroline.” His accent gets stronger as he speaks and she shudders at the way he says her name. The time has come to seal the deal and she is waiting for him to drink more of her blood and give his own to her, it was written in all the dusty books that she shoveled while she was looking for information about him, but the King again surprises her. He leans toward her — he smells like moss and sweet heather — and touches her lips in a light kiss.

When Caroline recoils in amazement, it is already dark, and there is no truck or Klaus. She is surrounded only by moorlands, stretching for many miles ahead, and a flock of crows that flutter into the starless sky.   
  
But the promise of the King is burning on her lips.   
  


***

She meets Samhain in Edinburgh: something tells her that the closer she gets to the hag hills, the better. The closer the Wild Hunt is, the more she feels the magic of the Raven King on her skin, and although she will never admit it, she likes the feeling of such strength.   
  
Caroline opens the windows wide on the night of the Wild Hunt and hears the neighing of horses in the distance. Bonnie would call her crazy, talk her out of this idea, but Caroline feels the adrenaline accelerate the rhythm of her heart and licks her lips, still feeling Klaus' inebriant taste.

She has really gone crazy, she thinks, making a deal with the ancient god who is more like the devil, but when the scent of heather is in the air, Caroline smiles, for some reason feeling that she is doing the right thing.   
  
When a wolf howl sounds right near her windows, and in the darkened Samhain sky even mortals can discern the outlines of the ancient creatures on their hunt, Caroline fearlessly comes to the window, feeling that he is very close - her lips are burning.

“Hello, sassenach,” a deep, deep voice sounds, and the darkness forms a rider on a huge horse. Klaus looks at her with a long, hard stare, and then holds out his palm to her. “If you haven't changed your mind, little vampire,” he says mockingly, forcing her to roll her eyes.   
  
“I haven't changed my mind,” Caroline says stubbornly, careful putting her fingers into his hand. She does not have time to be surprised how he draws her to himself, seating her on the horse in front of him, and pressing her to his strong and firm body.

From the height, she feels a little dizzy, and when the horse, obeying the orders of the owner, accelerates its run, Caroline clings to Klaus’ hands, forcing him to issue a small chuckle.   
  
“I won't drop you, little vampire,” he promises, tickling her neck with a warm breath.   
  
Huge wolves race alongside and Caroline manages to see other silhouettes in the dark. She shivers when she realizes that Rebekah herself, the fierce goddess of love and war, or Kol, the god of mischief and witchcraft, may be next to her. Though, should she be afraid of them when she is in the arms of the most dangerous of them all?

 

***

In the wet air, the scent of blood spreads — the gods are gathering their bloody crop — and Caroline makes every effort to keep her inner monster from striking out. She hears Klaus' quiet chuckle behind her back and bellies her chin aggressively, determined to prove to him that she is more than a little vampire.

“Why do you need a wild hunt?” Caroline asks when she sees a wolf face smeared in blood. She’s scared, but she experiences a strange kind of calm knowing that nothing threatens her while she’s in his arms.

“This is our harvest,” the answer follows, and Caroline turns slightly, facing his eyes, deep as sea. “We take what belongs to us by right and give them what they asked for in their prayers.”

“People no longer pray to the old gods,” says Caroline, knowing that it sounds too bold, but Klaus just grins.

“People think they don’t pray to them anymore,” he corrects her and then spurs his horse. “You can join the hunt too, Caroline.”

He utters her name for the first time and Caroline shudders at how it sounds on his tongue. Klaus smiles, as if knowing all the thoughts that swarm in her head, and squeezes his hands around her waist a little harder. His horse descends to the ground after the others, and in the haze of the autumn night, the ancient horsemen, emerging from the mist, look beautiful and deadly.

The few people they meet on the way die easily: Caroline hears silvery feminine laughter when the next unfortunate man falls down bleeding, and it becomes harder for her to restrain her own desires. Klaus leans closer to her and whispers that she can forget about all the restrictions.

He stops before the next victim and Caroline is the first to jump off his horse. She knows that she’s challenging him now, but with a bold look into Klaus’s face, she digs her fangs into the neck of a guy who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

His blood is hot and so sweet, Caroline can hardly stop herself. Perhaps this is the magic of the night? Perhaps she is just too hungry to tear herself away from the taste of him? In order to break away from the weakened guy, she has to apply all the strength of her will.

“And why didn't you kill him?” “Klaus watches as she exhales loudly, licks her bloodied lips, and then looks at her victim with barely noticeable pity.

“Sometimes it’s necessary to be in control of your own urges,” her answer follows, and interest in the eyes of the original one flickers.

“Is it possible to control everything?”

“I can try,” Caroline says.

“What will control give you?” There is a genuine curiosity in his question, and Caroline understands what he’s after - what he really wants to know.

“Power,” she breathes, feeling the sweetness of blood on her tongue. 

Klaus’s gaze is long and attentive, a look he fails to break even as he extends his hand to her to help her climb back onto his horse. He likes her answer in general, but he likes what she means by it more. She’s a young girl, who’s thirsty for power, yet knows its price. She is way more interesting than he expected and now he wants to show her something more than slaughtering. 

“Do you want to see what will happen next?”  he asks, and, slowly, Caroline nods.

Her acceptance makes Klaus smile.

***

The hunt slows down in the morning, and Caroline feels sated from the hot blood of their victims. When Klaus's horse stops on green hills, Caroline realizes that the time has come.   
  
“Seven days, Caroline,” Klaus reminds her, helping her dismount from his horse; and for some reason, her cheeks turn red from his intense gaze. His calloused fingers touch her chin, and he smiles when he sees drops of blood - she is a messy eater.   
  
“I remember,” the vampire nods, allowing him to hold her hand. The touch of strong fingers to her wrist sends goosebumps over her body and Klaus, as if feeling her bodily reaction, smiles smugly.

“I remember how sweet your blood was,” he remarks casually as the hills open before their king. “Perhaps you will give me a try again in the future.”   
  
His tongue slips over his crimson lips and Caroline refuses to let herself to think about what a real Klaus kiss would feel like...what it’d taste like if she let him invade her own mouth.   
  
“Fat chance,” she grumbles, following him.

Klaus smiles. The little vampire amuses him too much, and the sweetness of her blood does not leave his tongue. He can give her freedom from wood, from the sun, and he would love to see how a crown fitted atop her head. In the end, maybe his wicked tongue will persuade her to stay in the Unseelie court for more than seven days?   
  
Or maybe she will stay of her own free will. 


End file.
